


The Other Woman

by Littleshebear



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Love, Love Confessions, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 02:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17695640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleshebear/pseuds/Littleshebear
Summary: Late-night lovemaking leads to an impromptu confession from Hawthorne.





	The Other Woman

Zavala trudges back to his quarters. It’s late. Or is it early? It depends on one’s point of view, he supposes. It isn’t the first time he’s stayed up to steer an operation gone wrong, it isn’t the first time he’s paced the command centre watching the Guardians under his command snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. It is, however, the first time he’s felt guilty about how much of his time it’s taken up. This is the first time he’d had someone waiting, in vain, for him at home.

He enters his quarters and sinks down on the couch. That was a mistake, he knows that. He should have taken off his armour first, then gone to bed. There’s now a genuine danger that he’ll stay where he is and sleep in his armour. It’s happened before. He rests his head against the back of the couch, swearing that he’ll get up soon. He blinks his eyes open as his head lolls to the side and spots a familiar, worn, grubby-looking garment tossed over the back of the couch.

Zavala sits up and pays more attention to his surroundings. The poncho on the couch. The leather gauntlet on the coffee table. He rises and tiptoes to the kitchen. He sighs as he sees that, yes, there’s a sparrowhawk napping on the back of one of his hardback chairs. He turns back towards the living room and begins removing his heavy plate armour as quietly as he can, guilt gnawing at him anew. Suraya stayed. She’d stayed and waited nearly all night for him.

After he’s divested himself of that confining, noisy armour, he pads towards the bedroom. He turns on no lights, he doesn’t need them, his Awoken eyes being more than capable of seeing what’s before him. He discerns a figure, stretched out on his bed, forming a lump under his bedclothes. He sighs and crosses over, before perching on the edge of the bed. He divests himself of the rest of his clothing, gingerly, quietly, so careful not to wake her. Once he’s stripped down to his underwear, he eases himself into bed beside her, then drapes one arm over her, hugging her gently from behind.

Hawthorne stretches and sighs, pushing back against him. She places one hand over his, and murmurs a sleepy, “Evening, Commander.”

“Morning,” he corrects her, sadly. “It’s late, go back to sleep.”

“What happened?” She asks, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles into the back of her neck, “Strike team got into trouble. Had to make sure everything was all right.”

“Did we win?” She asks this without a hint of irritation.

“We did.” He kisses her throat. “I’m sorry, I meant to call you, but…” He sighs and hugs her tighter. “I lost track of time, things got away from me.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, rolling her head back, exposing more of her neck to him. “You were busy saving the world. Honestly, it’s fine. Besides, I don’t need you around all the time. I’m fairly self-sufficient.”

“Doesn’t make it okay,” he protests before giving way to a groan as she guides his hand up to her chest.

“Zavala, you don’t need to apologise,” she assures him. Her words are barely more than a sigh as she presses his hand to her breast. “You’re here now.”

“Suraya,” Zavala is fairly sure he doesn’t need to ask, given how can feel her nipple bud beneath her shirt and by how she pushes her rump back against him. But he wants to be sure. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she breathes, turning over to face him. He raises himself up off the bed a little, to allow her to maneuver herself beneath him. He brings his lips to hers without missing a beat. Neither one of them is tentative. He presses down against her while she opens her mouth, allowing him to dominate the kiss without complaint. He supports himself with one arm while he lets his free hand trail down her body until he reaches her waist and the hem of her shirt.

He sits up a little, while she pushes herself off the bed, keeping her lips pressed against his. They break away from each other just long enough to slip her shirt over her head, before resuming the kiss and sinking back down onto the mattress. They’re coordinated, as though they’re following the well-practiced steps of a dance.

Zavala eventually leaves her lips and trails his way down her throat and then her chest. Suraya places her hands on either side of his head and guides him to her breasts. She gives a satisfied groan when she feels him close his mouth over one of her nipples. He sucks and flicks his tongue back and forth, before pulling back on her with his teeth. She whimpers slightly in pleasure, pain, both. He runs the tip of his tongue lightly beneath her breast, revelling in the sigh of pleasure this elicits in her. He switches to the other breast, mirroring his actions; licking that oft-neglected area beneath her breast before closing his lips over her nipple and suckling.

While he lavishes attention on her breasts, his hand trails down her body, caressing her stomach, down her hip and to her thigh. He finally brushes her mound ever so lightly with the back of his hand before working his way back up again. She whimpers and bucks her hips in response.

“Did you want something, sweetheart?” Zavala whispers, raising himself up to look at her. Her expression is blissful; eyes closed, head tipped back. He carries on lightly rubbing the top of her thigh, waiting for a response.

“Your tongue would be nice…” Her hips rise and fall slowly, in anticipation of a touch that hasn’t happened yet.

“Where?” He asks. He traces his fingertips in light circles on the inside of her thigh. “Here?”

She laughs softly, “No, try again.”

“Here?” He smirks as he switches to the other leg, repeating that lazy, circular stroking.

“Nope…” She bites her lip before continuing. “Keep trying.”

He lets his hands drift inwards, dragging his fingers up the juncture of her thigh and her pussy. She gasps before giving a breathy laugh on the exhale.

“Getting warmer.” She’s visibly trembling with expectation now, so he almost feels bad for just mirroring that caress on the other side. Almost. She groans in frustration so he relents and dips one finger in her entrance and draws the gathering wetness up and over her clit.

“How about here?”

“Yes!” She gasps.

“Yes, what?”

She gives an exasperated sigh, before obliging him with a needy, “Please.” She places her hands on his shoulders and pushes. “Please.”

Zavala trails his lips down her body, following the path his hand had set out. When he finally settles between her legs, he steals a glance up at her. She’s shaking, her hands fisted in the sheets as if to steady herself. She’s such a pretty picture, wound tight, like a spring, He’s loathe to let it end too soon. He follows the pattern he established before; feather light kisses on her inner thighs, left then right, kissing and licking his way up the outside of her mound, everywhere except where she so desperately wants it.

“Please don’t tease…” She keens.

“It’s better if you take it slow,” he responds in between those kisses; maddeningly light, maddeningly close to her centre.

“Zavala,” A warning growl creeps into her voice, “I swear to the Traveler, if you don’t stop teasing me, I will bury you in paperwork next week.”

“I like paperwork.”

“I’ll volunteer to organise the strike rota. I’ll put you on with Cayde.” She pauses before delivering the stinger. “All week.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Try me.”

Suraya lets her head drop back on the pillow with a relieved groan when he finally gives her what she wants. He drags his tongue up the length of her slit, pauses to circle her clit, before licking downwards again. He keeps this pattern up for while, so she closes her eyes and rests her arms above her head, letting the sensations wash over her. She has to admit, the waiting did make it all the sweeter. But she won’t tell him that.

“See?” She pants, “You’re enjoying it.”

He leaves off his ministrations to glances up at her and reply, “But you beg so sweetly. I enjoy that too.”

“I’m not sweet- Oh!” Her protests are cut off by him resuming his attentions, this time he’s focussing on her clit, licking and prodding rhythmically at a spot just below it. She’s sensitive there but not too much, it’s enough to stimulate but not overwhelm.

“There,” she breathes. She doesn’t need to tell him; he’s observant and so attentive but she repeats it like a mantra.  “Right there, right there, right there…” She places one hand on the back of his head, holding him in place. The rational part of her knows he won’t stop, not unless she asks him to but the rational part of her is being steadily drowned out by her encroaching climax. Her speech gives way to moaning and she feels one of his hands on her hips, holding her in place when she starts to buck up towards him.

“Zavala…” She wriggles, he can’t keep her still, try as he might. “I need to…I need…” She trails off, unable to form a coherent sentence, hoping that he’ll know what she wants. She arches of the bed and cries out when he obliges her half-formed entreaty and slips two fingers inside her, then crooks them. He knew what she wanted, of course he did and she finds herself laughing at the realisation.

Zavala raises his head, frowning, “Why are you laugh-”

She grabs his head and shoves it back down. “Don’t stop!” She sighs in relief as he returns to what he was doing. She feels herself clamping down on him involuntarily, the heat spreading through her body, tingling on every inch of her skin. Zavala moans around her, as if he can sense her peak is nearing. The vibrations it sends through her push her over the edge and she writhes beneath him as her orgasm crashes through her. She lets go of him and balls her hands into fists, grasping at nothing as though she were trying to grab on to the pleasure she’s feeling. She relaxes eventually, flopping back on the bed like a rag doll.  

Zavala crawls back up the bed and nuzzles into her neck. “You alright?”

Hawthorne smiles blissfully and responds with a contented “Mmm,” sound. 

“Mm?” Zavala mimics.

Suraya responds in the affirmative, “Mm-hm,”  before collapsing into giggles.

“I’ll give you a minute or ten, shall I?”

“No, I’m okay,” she assures him, finding the ability to make words again. “Come here.” She pulls him on top of her and hooks her fingers in the waistband of his shorts, then pulls one leg up and uses her foot to push them down. She then wraps her hand around his hard length and guides him towards her.

“You’re sure you don’t need a minute?” He hesitates, his cock nudging at her entrance. It’s his turn to tremble with anticipation. She shakes her head, just wanting him to ease that ache she’d felt since she’d arrived at his apartment only to find it empty.

She cups his face with her free hand and locks her eyes on his. “I want you.”

He pushes into her with a relieved groan. He gives a few shallow thrusts at first before slowly sinking in to the hilt. He stays still once he’s fully inside, breathing heavily, as though he’s trying to compose himself. Suraya brings her legs up, wraps them around him and pulls him towards her, while at the same time rocking her hips upwards.

“Suraya…” He moans, burying his face in her neck. “Someone is impatient tonight.”

She places her hands on either side of his head and pulls him up to face her. “I’ve been plenty patient tonight.” She kisses him hungrily, biting and sucking on his lower lip. “So hurry up and fuck me, Commander.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, smiling against her lips. He pushes into her gently, with slow, long thrusts. Suraya pulls her legs up even further, gripping his hips between her ankles and moaning encouragement. He pulls back a little and cups her face in his palm, tracing his thumb across her lips. He studies her face intently, as though he were trying to memorise every feature. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause it’s dark.” His eyes seem to shining brighter than usual, even accounting for the early morning gloom. He’s looking at her so intently, she thinks he may be able to see right through to her soul.

“I see you just fine.” His voice starts to sound strained as he picks up the pace a little. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful…” When he kisses her again, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and clings desperately, feeling like she can’t get close enough to him. He buries himself in her with a single, forceful thrust before stilling his movements suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” She searches his face, a note of panic entering her voice. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not.” He swallows hard, getting his breathing back under control. He runs a hand up her thigh and gently pushes it down. “Put your legs together.”

Suraya frowns. “How does that work?”

“Trust me.” She lowers her legs back down onto the bed and looks up him for guidance. She giggles at the rather awkward shuffling that ensues. She abruptly falls silent when he manages to maneuver his legs either side of hers and pushes them fully together.

“Oh…fuck,” Is her less than eloquent response to this new position. He is still fully sheathed inside her, and she feels so full, she can only imagine how he must feel with her gripping his cock like this. She cries out when he starts to move again. He doesn’t so much thrust as grind against her, each movement of his hips causing him to graze her clit. She closes her eyes and drops her jaw open in a silent ‘O’ of pleasure.

“How does that feel?” He murmurs into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

She whimpers before managing to gabble, “That feels so good.” The syllables run together, coming out as a breathy whisper. She reaches back and grips the pillow on either side of her head. Despite the weight of him above her, she feels strangely light, as though she were floating on a warm sea. She feels his hands cover hers and they thread their fingers together. She forces her eyes open gazes up at him. His eyes are still fixed on her face, he’s utterly focussed on her. She’s almost disappointed when she feels that little ball of pleasure in her core begin to bloom outwards. Part of her is eager to come, another never wants this feeling to end.

“You’re close?” He asks, his breathing uneven and ragged. She just nods, then squeezes his hands hard. Her climax builds, she can’t hold it back any longer. She comes with a long, blissful sigh, then sinks back against her pillow, feeling like she’s melting into the bed. He follows soon after, shuddering into her with a desperate moan. He remains in place for a few moments, waiting for the last aftershocks to fade. He eventually releases her hands and peppers her with kisses before hiding his face in her shoulder.

Suraya throws her arms around his shoulders, basking in the afterglow and his closeness. She sighs happily and blurts out, “I love you.”

Zavala’s head snaps up. “I’m sorry, what?”

She stares back up at him, eyes wide, her mouth forming words that can’t come out. “Uh. I…I was in the moment.”

“Did you mean it?”

She nods, gulping nervously. “I meant to to tell you before.”

“When?”

She covers her eyes with her hand and sighs. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.” He assures her, moving himself off of her. He settles beside her, propping himself up on one elbow.  

“Remember when I turned up to that consensus meeting early?” She begins, her hand still covering her face. “And you sent me home because I was sick?” She opens her fingers just a touch and peeks between them. “I wasn’t sick. I was just scared. Then I got embarrassed and lost my nerve.”

Zavala opens his mouth as if to speak but pauses, clearly needing more time to parse what he’s just heard. “Wait. I didn’t see you for three days after that. Did…” He frowns, a smile starting to build on his lips, “Did you hide in your apartment for three days?” Suraya nods slowly. “Because you wanted me to think you were sick?” Another sheepish nod. “Huh. Well. Was the soup good at least?”

“It really was! Where did you get it?”

“Ah-ah, don’t change the subject.” He grasps her wrist lightly and pulls her hand away from her face.  “Look at me.” He presses her trembling hand to his cheek and kisses the base of her palm. “I love you too.”

Her jaw drops and she stares up at him for a moment before exclaiming, “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t think you were ready. And I did tell you.” He hedges, “Sort of.”

“When?”

“You were asleep.”

She wrenches her hand free of his and slaps him playfully on the shoulder. “Well, _that_ doesn’t count, you great lunk!” She bursts into relieved laughter, all the tension she’d been holding on to for weeks suddenly dissipating in an instant. “So…” She asks, her laughter dying down. “Where does this leave us?”

“I’m not sure what you mean?”

“I mean…” She bites her lip and takes a few seconds to think about how put this worry into words. That anxiety that bubbled up in her mind during the Noodle Soup incident and refused to leave. She shrugs. “The reason you were late tonight. Your Other Woman.”

Zavala looks aghast and stammers, “Wh-What? Suraya, there’s no one else!

“I know, I know, I didn’t mean that literally.” She caresses his face lightly, tracing her thumb down the path of one of his tattoos. “I meant the City. You’ve loved her a lot longer than you’ve loved me.” She lets her hand drop and breaks eye contact. “I’d understand if you wanted to keep this casual or if…” She swallows hard, “If you thought it best if we didn’t…” She takes a deep breath and begins to gabble a little. “You have responsibilities and I don’t want you feeling guilty if you can’t’ be with me, and I’d understand if you thought a relationship isn’t practical for you. I mean, you’ve cared about this City for centuries, you’ve only known me for about five min-”  She finds herself silenced by him kissing her fiercely. She whimpers into his mouth, taken aback by his sudden intensity.

“If you’d said that a few years ago, I probably would have agreed with you.” When he speaks his lips brush against hers and he punctuates his speech with more kisses. “So much has changed; losing my Light made me reassess a lot of things. There’s more to this existence than the wall, than the City. You taught me that.” He pulls back a little to look at her properly. “I’m old, Suraya. Old and tired but you’ve given me a taste for life again. I’m not losing that.”

She curls into him, pillowing her head against his chest as he encircles her with his arms. “I’ve never really been serious with anyone before. It was never really on the cards for me. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“It’s been a long time for me as well.” He drops a kiss on top of her head. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Okay.” She notices a faint shaft of light peeking through a cap in the curtains and groans. “Sun’s coming up. You should sleep. You don’t get enough sleep, we’re going to have to do something about that.”

He laughs softly, “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. No arguments.” She tries those unfamiliar, formerly terrifying words on for size again. “I love you.” There’s a silence as he hugs her closer. Try as she might, she can’t stay serious for too long. “Louis loves you too.”

 


End file.
